


Long Time No See

by eyessharpweaponshot



Series: Bellarke Bingo [1]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke Bingo, Breakup/makeup, Cuddling, Exes, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Minor Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin, One Shot, POV Bellamy Blake, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-24 06:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20701217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyessharpweaponshot/pseuds/eyessharpweaponshot
Summary: "Clarke."The blonde whips her head around, her expression vacant until she recognises him. Bellamy’s hair is a little longer now and he has a beard - but when Clarke’s eyes widen and a smile erupts onto her face, it tells him that she didn’t take long to place him."Bellamy?"Her voice fans embers in his heart and he has to force himself to swallow, force himself to remain steady when he stands to hug her. Fuck, did he ever fall out of love with her at all?Or: another exes fic by me because I have no self control.





	Long Time No See

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icantloseyoutoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantloseyoutoo/gifts).

> Oh look, another exes fic by me. This is who I am, now.
> 
> The title is from the song '[Long Time No See](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kC-XyP-aMQY)' by Wild Youth. Their music video heavily inspired this fic and I am kind of obsessed with it.
> 
> I've dedicated this fic to my beautiful friend Ciara, who is not only a kind, interesting and amazing person but she is also half my sanity online as well. Thank you for being the rock that I bang my head off while writing.

The mugs in Europe were much larger than the one that Bellamy has between his fingers now.

Still, nowhere does coffee like his hometown, even Italy - the place that seems to have everything down to a fine art: pizza, wine and history. It’s probably why he spent so long there while travelling.

When Bellamy came home, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he got a little too excited about the prospect of having coffee in Arkadia again. Maybe it’s because he was raised on this blend, diving straight into the habit at the tender age of 13. Now, at 28, he’s matured into a full on coffee snob with a preference for Arkadian coffee. He takes a sip, letting the warmth of the drip black liquid seep down his throat.

Yeah - it’s good to be home.

He’s sitting at one of the high tables outside Jaha Coffee, one of his favourite places to just chill. It’s located below the street, a perfect nook of solitude away from the busy world above. It hasn't changed at all, seemingly ageless to the passing of time.

Given that it’s October, he’s alone at the tables as his fellow Arkadian’s favour the heat inside. Bellamy relishes the cold, always has. Besides, it’s nice out here. Various plants stand like soldiers behind him, hiding the cold stone of the building. Little fairy lights are wrapped around some of the stems, giving the place a sense of magic.

He’s scrolling through his phone absentmindedly, pushing past Octavia’s incessant posts of her motorbike. Sometimes, he wonders if she does it to annoy him - knowing how he feels about her riding the damn thing.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs in front of him makes Bellamy glance up, just acknowledging the noise without really paying too much attention to it. He’s looking back at the screen of his phone when the person's appearance really hits him and he has to double take. His heart stops dead in his chest for a moment, chills sweeping over his body. Fuck, it_ is_ her.

Clarke Griffin.

She’s coming down the stairs to the coffee shop, hand running along the rail to balance herself as she looks down at her phone. She hasn’t seen Bellamy yet, or if she has, she’s pretending that she didn’t.

Clarke used to have long hair, just below her ribcage. Now, she’s chopped it to a seemingly more manageable length, cut off just below her chin. If light could transform itself into tiny strands, it would be her hair. It seems to glow from the inside out, the most beautiful kind of blonde that Bellamy has yet to encounter on someone else. A smile quirks on his lips without Bellamy having much say in the matter and his pulse has quickened, a sense of nostalgia washing over him in a hot second. She’s wearing a simple black t-shirt, covered by a camel coloured coat. Her dark jeans are cropped at her ankle, complimented by a pair of boots that match the colour of her coat.

She’s still fucking beautiful, even after all this time.

Transfixed on her mission to buy coffee, she doesn’t even notice Bellamy sitting there as she pulls open the door and vanishes inside.

_Okay. Take a breath._

Bellamy locks his phone, resting it at his lip as he scans his brain for something clever to say when she comes back out. The shock of seeing his ex is landing on him with each passing second, the hairs on his arms standing to attention - despite the fact he’s wearing a jacket. He hadn’t expected this - in fact, he didn’t even know she was still in town.

He always resisted the urge to check up on her on social media and all their old mutual friends have moved on, out of town or settled down somewhere with a couple of kids each. The only people Bellamy even sees regularly anymore are his mother and his sister and it's not like they’d know anything about the life of his ex girlfriend.

He taps his fingers on the edge of his white mug, his eyes drifting to the tattoo scrawled on the outer side of his index finger. An infinity symbol. He allows himself to focus on the old ink, rubbing his thumb across it. Chills march down his spine. _Fuck_.

Bellamy scrubs at his short beard, runs his fingers through his dark curls - anything to make him feel like he has his shit together right now. He’s definitely not fixing himself up so that he can look good. Definitely not. He pulls at the collar of his jacket just as the door opens and Clarke emerges back outside. He finds himself wishing for a few more seconds of processing but he’s not going to get them, so instead, he just dives right in.

"Clarke."

The blonde whips her head around, her expression vacant until she recognises him. Bellamy’s hair is a little longer now and he has a beard - but when Clarke’s eyes widen and a smile erupts onto her face, it tells him that she didn’t take long to place him.

"Bellamy?"

Her voice fans embers in his heart and he has to force himself to swallow, force himself to remain steady when he stands to hug her. Fuck, did he ever fall out of love with her at all?

She’s beaming as she throws one arm around him, a little awkwardly because she’s trying to hold onto her takeaway coffee cup with the other. Her scent envelopes him and Bellamy’s heart drops at the fact that he can’t remember if she always smelled like this or not. He used to take comfort in her scent, nuzzle his nose into her neck if he was having a particularly bad day. Now, he’s not sure if its changed or if he has.

"Oh my God." She laughs. "It’s been ages."

"Five years." Bellamy nods as they pull away and he hopes that the smile on his face isn’t as sad looking as he feels. God, he’s missed her. Clarke’s cheeks hold a faint blush of red, perhaps from the cold.

"When did you get back to town?" Clarke grins as she leans on her forearms against his table, cocking one ankle over the other. She warms her fingers around her coffee and her bright blue eyes are just as captivating as he remembered. He’s staring at her for so long that he almost forgets to reply.

"Last month," he manages, unable to pull his eyes away from her.

She’s not wearing much makeup, just a hint of mascara and a lick of gloss on her lips. Clarke starts into a ramble, something he notices hasn’t changed much about her. She used to always talk when she was nervous or excited - right now though, after years of being out of practice with her, he can’t tell which one she is at the moment. Bellamy watches her speak like the words falling from her lips are from God himself but he doesn’t hear a word of it. He’s too busy letting the pinch of nostalgia pull him back to when they were just a couple of kids, falling over themselves in the hurricane of love. They were still figuring life out, still young enough to not give a damn about one minute to the next. They really were just kids in reflection of who they seem to be now - but damn, they really did love each other.

He remembers walking to the beach from Clarke’s house, which was just on the outskirts of town. They’d spend hours down there, despite the cold, wrapped in hats and scarves and one another. The breeze would cut them in half from the ocean but it never pulled the smiles off their faces, tackling one another like idiots. Clarke would steal Bellamy’s favourite hat and race away with it, only to be caught by him seconds later because she can’t run for shit. He’d lift her over his shoulder, her squeals attracting the attention of elderly couples who lived a few paces away from the sandy shores. In their heads, though, it was just them in the world.

He remembers how they’d go out for dinner almost every second evening, money from their part time jobs frivolous in their pockets like they couldn’t wait to spend it. The evening Bellamy decided that he would love Clarke for the rest of his life, they were dining at Trikru restaurant which lies only ten minutes from where they are now. Clarke was wearing a red dress, lace decorated around her neckline. She laughed so much that night and acted shy when Bellamy tried to video her with his camera. He loved documenting every single inch of her, loved capturing her laugh and the way her eyes would pinch up when she was in the thick of it. They had way too much wine but Bellamy adored the way Clarke would lean into him when she was tipsy, how they danced and kissed in the bar afterwards and she clung to him like she might love him forever too.

"Do you see them anymore?" Clarke asks him and Bellamy blinks.

"What?"

"Raven and the others." Clarke smiles, eyes expecting. She had obviously been talking about their old friends but Bellamy can’t even pick out a single word she has said.

"Uh," he stutters, gathering himself quickly. "No, never see any of them. I’ve hardly been home, just at Christmas to see mom and O."

"You were gone for so long." Clarke’s big smile falls back into a small one, like this saddens her a little.

_He was gone for so long_. Bellamy left a couple of months after he and Clarke broke up, felt like nothing was left for him in Arkadia anymore. Five years working in different countries had made him mature, independent and grown but it seemingly didn’t cure his heartbreak. Just hid it, glossed over it to the point where he thought he was okay again.

"Well, I’m back now." Bellamy smiles, exhaling a deep breath to control himself. _What is he doing?_ He’s barely been in her gravity for five minutes and he’s losing it.

"Permanently?" Clarke wonders.

He smirks. "Yeah, Princess."

The nickname slipped out unheeded. _Shit_. Clarke’s eyes flutter down to the table, a blush that is definitely not from the cold climbing onto her cheeks. She used to love when Bellamy called her that, especially loved it in bed when he’d pull the dirtiest of sentences out of his back pocket in order to make her come. In the end, though, all it would take is the simplest whisper of her nickname on his lips and she’d be done for. Bellamy knew this, but enjoyed teasing her out anyway.

"So," he clears his throat. "How’s your mom?"

Clarke recovers from whatever she was feeling quickly, filling Bellamy in on Abby’s promotion at the hospital and that her and Marcus got married a couple of years back. Bellamy listens this time, nodding his head and laughing where appropriate. He can’t help his eyes drifting down to Clarke’s hands where she’s holding her coffee cup, fingers braced around it to absorb its heat.

No ring.

Bellamy exhales a breath of relief but it gets stuck in his chest when he sees that her tattoo is still there. The tiny infinity symbol on her index finger, an identical match to his own. His eyes shove up to hers but she hasn’t noticed the change, continues telling him about her mother’s wedding. Little does she know that Bellamy’s heart is now doing overtime. _Shit. She kept it, too._

He was certain she’d get it covered up, laser it off maybe. But no, the tiny double circle is still there - just like his is. He thought about covering his own many times, but he could never bring himself to do it. It felt like he would be erasing all of their memories together, all of their happy times - everything the tattoo stood for. Now, he’s wondering if he kept it because he never stopped loving Clarke. It flows infinitely, like the mark on his finger.

He remembers the day they got them, euphoric and high from love after spending a blissful morning together. It was a spur of the moment, something wild and spontaneous that sounds exactly like the old them. Bellamy wonders if Clarke is still like that.

"I found the funniest photo of us last month, actually." Clarke’s voice breaks through the thick thoughts in his mind and he refocuses once more. She swipes through her phone to find what she’s looking for and then turns it to face him.

Bellamy actually laughs out loud. "Wow, that’s old."

Both of them are dressed as the Joker and Harley Quinn. Bellamy’s hair is bright green and Clarke is sticking her tongue out in the psychotic way that Harley does. It’s a terrible photo but he remembers the night quite well. Bellamy could barely keep his hands off Clarke, her little shorts too enticing to resist. They ended up fucking in his old rover before the night was out and he finds himself wondering if she thought of that too when she found the photo.

Their coffees are well finished after half an hour but Bellamy finds that Clarke is still here, finding all sorts of things to talk about. They never discuss intimate details and quite frankly, he can’t bring himself to ask her if she’s seeing someone. He thinks its better being in the dark about that.

"Wanna go for a walk or something?" Clarke eventually asks him and Bellamy smiles, trying to temper his excitement of getting to spend more time with her.

"Sure."

They leave Jaha’s and emerge onto the cold street above them. It’s late afternoon and both of them relish in spending time together, reminiscing old times as they dance through the streets of Arkadia. Bellamy loosens up a little, stops being so hypersensitive of every move he makes and he realises how easy it is to fall back into familiar behaviours with Clarke. He feels comfortable around her, can be silly and funny because he knows she has the exact same sense of humour as him.

"So where are you living now?" she asks him next and he realises that the conversation is sliding slowly into more personal territory.

"I’m renting a place across town," he tells her. "It’s actually beside that Tapas restaurant that Octavia loves."

"Oh, where we went to celebrate her 21st birthday?" Clarke catches his arm as she moves around someone on the street. His heart jumps at the contact.

"Where she drank way too much tequila?"

"And rapped the entire 212 song by Azealia Banks?" Clarke laughs and Bellamy cringes. God, that was definitely an interesting night.

"My apartment number is actually 216 - I think she was a little disappointed that I couldn’t score 212."

The conversation doesn’t dip once - they seem to always have something to discuss or talk about. There’s no awkward silences and they end up walking for ages with no destination in mind at all. Every time Clarke tells a story, her smile is stupidly wide and Bellamy is thoroughly mesmerised by her. He is so fucked. How does it feel like no time has passed at all?

They end up getting ice cream and sitting outside on a bench, Clarke groaning like the strawberry flavour she’s eating is the best thing she’s ever had. When he teases her about it, she’s quick to reply - as always.

"Shut up," she says, smirking. "Just because you always order vanilla."

"Vanilla is underrated."

"Vanilla is boring. There’s a reason it’s used as a descriptive term for plain sex."

"You know I’m not vanilla," he blurts out, clocking his error a little too late.

Clarke doesn’t look at him but he can see her freeze a little before her mouth turns up into a small smile. "I know."

There’s times like this where he’d love to know what she’s thinking. He could practically read her mind before and he misses the skill.

"Good. I was beginning to feel like I didn’t make an impression," he jokes and the slight awkwardness dissipates.

Clarke bursts out laughing as she nudges his shoulder with hers and Bellamy beams with pride that he can still make her smile like that. His heart clenches a little after that thought because shit, she wasn’t always this happy. The good times made him forget the bad, made him forget that Clarke wasn’t smiling like that towards the end of their relationship.

They fought all the time, bickered over crap that didn’t even matter now. Bellamy used to be so caught up in correcting her, making sure his voice was heard and his viewpoint on the argument came out on top and over time, the fight just left Clarke. She didn’t care anymore to prove him wrong, wasn’t bothered to go through a massive ordeal just to get her point across.

Bellamy was too immature, didn’t have the right tools in place to make a relationship work at the time. And he guesses Clarke didn’t either. Instead of communicating her thoughts with him, she had a nasty habit of telling him everything was fine in such a convincing way. Then, when it all did come out (and it always did), Bellamy was shocked and angry that she held it in for so long.

The smile on Clarke’s face today might mirror their good times before, but she had lost it for so long. The day she ended things, he let her go all too easily. He wasn’t going to beg her to stay - although looking back, he wishes he did. He wishes they sat down, ironed out their problems like two grown adults but that is something only present day Bellamy is capable of. He wasn’t back then.

Clarke’s eyes were overflowing with tears, a silent look in them that asked him to fight for them - but he didn’t, he just let her walk away.

He watches her now as she holds her hand to her head, muttering about brain freeze and he fucking prays for a second chance. No-one has ever come close to her in the last five years. Not one person.

"So, what was your favourite country?" she asks him, completely unaware of the thoughts running around in his mind.

"Italy."

He decides that easily, although he does dish out some long winded stories about his time in Spain.

He doesn’t tell her about the nights he lay awake, wondering what she was doing back home or playing guessing games about where she ended up. He doesn’t tell her that he thought of her far too often, yearned to tell her about every interesting thing he came across. He doesn’t tell her that he watched the stars at night in several different countries, surrounded by culture and interesting people, and not one minute compared to half a second with her.

He doesn’t tell her that even after five years, he’s still in love with her.

They spend the next hour floating through the streets, giggling and joking around with one another. He learns that she’s teaching independent art classes to kids in the evenings and working at a gallery in the mornings. She was always a phenomenal artist - Bellamy always believed she’d succeed with it.

Clarke stops at one point to check her phone, types out a text while she stands still in the street and Bellamy’s heart pauses. He looks back at her with curiosity, trying to analyse her expression. He wonders if she’s texting a friend or maybe her mom - yet the sinking feeling in his gut tells him it’s more than that.

"Everything okay?"

Clarke’s head pops up and she smiles that big grin of hers at him. "Yep, all fine."

Bellamy returns her smile, tries to ignore the uneasy feeling inside of him as she falls back into step with him and they continue walking - no aim for their day. Just like five years ago.

She’s different. Bellamy can’t put his finger on it because she’s the same in so many ways. Yet, she’s lighter too. The weight seems to be gone from her shoulders - like the things she used to worry about are long gone. She was notorious for caring what people thought about her, prided herself on keeping a brave face on - no matter how she was feeling inside.

One thing she hated more than fighting with Bellamy was people knowing they were fighting. She pretended like there were never cracks in their armour, hushed him if he started raising his voice too loud, panicked if anyone even thought they might be sour with one another. Now, she carries herself differently. Like she couldn’t give a damn what anyone thinks about her - like she knows what’s important.

They come across a photo booth and Clarke drags him inside, the space far too small for the two of them. She ends up haphazardly sitting on his lap and Bellamy has to take a deep breath, his hands on her waist to steady her. Fuck. He’s thrown by the intimacy of having her so close.

Each flash signals them to enter into a new pose and in the end, they end up with four black and white pictures of their current-day selves. Three of them are goofy, both of them throwing out their most unattractive faces because they were never ones to care about appearances in each other’s company. The last one, Clarke is just smiling properly at the camera and Bellamy’s heart jumps when he notices the way he’s looking at her. He’s watching her side profile, a look of pure love and adoration plastered on his face.

If Clarke notices, she doesn’t say anything.

They’re resting on some steps when Bellamy checks his phone for the first time all day. It’s growing on 5pm and his heart lurches. There’s not enough hours in the day to spend with Clarke Griffin. She’s beside him as she types a text out on her own phone and he aches to ask her on a date.

Would she go with him? Would she forget the pain and immaturity of their past selves and give him another go?

Today has been magical and fun - this can’t be it. Can it?

Her eyes are focused on her phone and she looks so beautiful - he can’t not have her in his life again. He thought he was fine - resigned to having Clarke as a just memory and that was it. Now that he’s had a taste of her again though, the addiction to her has come back full force - like it never really left at all. And like an addict, one hit is never enough.

In that moment, his eyes accidentally flit down to her phone and he sees the text she’s typing out. He doesn’t mean to see it - he really doesn’t, but once he does, it can’t be forgotten.

Finn is the person she’s typing to. He’s asked her where she is and she’s replying with "just coming now".

Bellamy lifts his eyes to her face, the dismay and hurt crashing down on top of him. _She’s with someone._

"I gotta go," she says, smiling as she looks up.

Bellamy gives her a tight lipped smile in return, nodding his acceptance of this at her. He just hopes the disappointment isn’t obvious on his face the way it is on his heart. He should have expected this. Clarke is a great girl, he should have known that she’d be snapped up. It’s his own fault for letting her go, not realising what he had when he had it.

He’s different now, he's in a better place for a relationship - he could have shown her that he was willing to make it work now, fight for it because she’s too important to him. Guess he really missed his chance.

Flashes flow through his mind of them kissing on the beach all those years ago. Clarke laughing in bed as they wrap themselves up in one another. The way their fingers intertwined as they walked down the street. The way she blew bubbles into her glass of gin on nights out with their friends. How Bellamy would hold her hand up so she could do a spin while they walked. The nights where they’d star gaze on his mother’s lawn. Clarke’s face when she walked away from him for the last time.

It’s something similar to now. She’s not crying but Bellamy can see the battle she’s fighting. She doesn’t want to go now either - but she has to.

They walk to the edge of the street and when Clarke looks across the road, Bellamy follows her eyes. They land on an average sized guy who is staring at his phone. He has long, brown hair that reaches just above his chin and looks nothing like the kind of man that he pictured for Clarke.

Bellamy is built and broad compared to Finn’s narrow frame. His hair is shaggy and his clothes are plain, more of a boy’s look than a man’s. Maybe she went for a direct contrast to Bellamy - or maybe she’s just not into Bellamy at all anymore.

That one seems more likely.

"Thank you for today," Clarke says but Bellamy’s eyes are still stuck on Finn. It’s a good distraction because his heart will ache even more when he looks at Clarke. God, he doesn’t want her to go.

"It was fun," Bellamy manages. He finally looks at her, the blue of her eyes making his throat close.

She nods a few times. "Yeah."

It’s the first time all day that it’s been like this. Awkward, uneasy, unsettled.

Bellamy is the first one to break it, outstretching his arms as she falls into him for a hug goodbye. Her scent surrounds him and his chest is pulled tight. He hears her exhale against his shoulder and he gives her a little squeeze before she pulls back.

"Take care of yourself," she tells him but he can’t even look at her. His eyes are focused on a shop window behind her, desperate to not watch her walk away from him again.

He nods and smiles as much as he can - and with that, Clarke is gone. She crosses the street to Finn and just when she reaches him, Bellamy indulges in the pain and watches as she accepts a peck on the lips from her boyfriend. She smiles up at him, not as widely as she smiles at Bellamy, and links his arm.

Bellamy takes a breath, hands in his pockets as he watches the love of his life move further and further away from him with another man. His heart feels heavy, regret and jealousy in layers over it. They’ve only walked a few steps when Clarke turns her head over her shoulder, spotting Bellamy in the distance. Her expression is unreadable but Bellamy thinks he detects some disappointment there before she turns back around. Maybe a little heartache, a little regret of her own.

Bellamy watches until they’ve turned the corner, tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth to contain his emotions before he turns away himself and makes the lonely walk back to his apartment.

When they used to star gaze, it was a constant competition as to who could find a shooting star to wish for. Bellamy almost always spotted them first and Clarke used to tell him that he had to make a wish. His response was always "I wouldn’t know what to wish for".

_God. He knew now_.

* * *

Bellamy’s television has been dishing out complete trash all evening but he finds himself grateful for the background noise. The apartment is too quiet without it. He’s leaning back against his couch cushions, not paying one bit of attention to the show that’s currently playing - his mind too preoccupied.

In his hand, he holds his old Canon camera that he spent far too long searching for at his mother’s this morning. Clarke’s beautiful face, five years younger than now, beams back at him as he watches old moments of their lives together. She’s laughing, shoving the camera away as Bellamy tries his best to film her. Her hair is long and wavy, partially hidden under a black beanie hat because it was freezing that day. They were just wandering around town, looking at CD’s in music stores which were so popular back then.

"You’re a weirdo," she giggles, her voice making Bellamy’s stomach flip as he watches the video.

"You’re beautiful," he tells her softly. Bellamy can hear it in his voice - he was so gone for her, even then. How could he have let her go?

The next segment is the two of them in his old bed at his mother's house. White sheets are draped around them, blocking out the sunlight as it pours in on the lazy morning that the two of them are sharing. Clarke is wearing his old, blue basketball t-shirt and she looks radiant, hair tossed from sleep and an easy smile on her face. Bellamy is tickling her while pressing soft kisses to her jawline and Clarke is squealing with laughter. That is until Octavia bangs the wall on her side, her sharp tone following after it as she wonders why they have to be "so fucking happy at this hour of the morning".

Bellamy smiles. God, he really did love her. _Does_.

Ever since seeing Clarke yesterday, his fingers have been itching to search for her on Instagram - but what would he do then? Stalk her feed and hurt himself more by seeing pictures of her life that he isn’t apart of? Would he follow her on it or would that be crossing the line?

_Fuck_. He tosses the camera down on the couch, pushing back his curls with his hands. He exhales loudly before getting up to retrieve a beer from the fridge. He needs to stop this stupid pining. He only saw her yesterday and it’s upheaved his whole life. She was always that impressive - always had that unique ability to be a hurricane of magnificence and a powerful force to be reckoned with at the same time.

He barely has the fridge door open when a sharp knock fills his apartment. Bellamy figures it’s probably Octavia, considering she’s the only person that would call round at this hour of the night. His heart isn’t ready when he opens his front door and finds a short haired blonde standing outside it.

"Clarke?"

Bellamy stares at her in complete shock, like he somehow manifested her here with his constant thoughts about her.

"Hey." She gives him a small smile.

She has a scarf bundled around her neck and the tip of her nose is a little red from the cold outside. He simply gapes at her, unsure what to do or say at this point. Does he invite her in? Ask her what she’s doing here? His pulse is starting to quicken and he finds his fingers are holding the wood of his door a little too tightly.

Clarke shrugs in time with her deep exhale, eyes never leaving his.

"It’s always been you."

It only takes a beat to absorb it before Bellamy steps forward like a race gun has gone off, his lips crashing into hers. He’d fear that he’s misread this situation completely if it wasn’t for the way Clarke wraps her arms around him, pulling him closer.

They fall back into his apartment, door slamming behind them as Bellamy re-learns everything about kissing the love of his life.

"I left him," she manages to get out in between breaths, confirming what Bellamy already guessed at. _Fuck, she has come back to him_.

"Good," he gasps, letting her pull his t-shirt off over his head.

Her lips are just as soft as he remembered, her kiss just as passionate. It feels like home, like Bellamy never truly came back until now. His tongue searches hers for the words he’s dying to hear, the words that he’s hoping she wants to say - the feeling that burns through him and never really left at all.

"I love you," he blurts out, their breathing mingling together after the rush of adrenaline. His hands are cupping Clarke’s face, holding her to him in fear that she’ll somehow disappear as quickly as she arrived.

Her blue eyes sparkle, sinking in relief. "God, I love you too."

Bellamy’s heart swells, already feeling wrecked and he’s hardly touched her. He’s drowning in this feeling and he’d happily die from it - let it consume his final moments in this world if she was holding his hand.

She lifts her fingers to brush his curls back from his eyes when he catches a glimpse of her tattoo again - the one they share, the infinity sign that meant they would love one another forever. Bellamy smiles now, understanding that maybe they will.

He runs his finger across it, both of their eyes examining the mark. "You kept it."

"You too." She touches his one, lifting it to her mouth to press a gentle kiss to it.

Fuck. His heart is pounding. He can't be apart from her again.

"Take your clothes off," he demands, his mouth claiming hers again not a second later.

Clarke does as she’s told, unbuttoning her jeans and shedding herself of barriers as they stumble into Bellamy’s bedroom. Her body hasn’t changed much at all but just like before, Bellamy can’t get enough of it. He’s harder than he cares to admit, as if this is the first naked body he’s ever seen. She’s perfect.

Happiness fills him as she giggles against his mattress, transporting him back to five years ago when this kind of intimacy happened all the time. Now, like an addict falling back into a drug they’ve kicked, Bellamy wonders why he gave it up at all. The starting high is always the most powerful and he realises that he’s been chasing it ever since Clarke left him.

"Bellamy," she breathes as he worships her neck with gentle kisses, sucking his way downwards.

The bed below them creaks as he shifts his weight, following the line of Clarke’s beautiful body until he’s between her legs. She arches off the bed when his tongue lands it’s first lick, the taste of her rushing back to him as quick as everything else. God, he’s missed her.

"Fuck," she gasps and Bellamy smirks against her, knowing that her mouth grows dirty when he’s making her feel this good. She was never one for cursing until they got into the bedroom.

Like a play he’s rehearsed for too many times, Bellamy takes joy in remembering just how much they practiced - how flawlessly he knows how to perform with her. He has her on the edge in no time at all, keeps her there as he flattens his tongue and changes direction until Clarke can’t physically take it anymore. Then, he simply circles her clit and sucks it until she’s falling apart. He lets her ride out her pleasure, moans and hopeless whimpers falling from her lips until she starts to balance out again. She’s like a song he knows by heart, impossible to forget - no matter how much time has passed.

"Get up here," she instructs him, eyes narrowing at his smug grin that he always wears after he’s gotten her off.

She kisses him lazily, hooking her leg over his hip until he finally gets the message. He rids himself of his jeans, sighing with relief now that he’s no longer restrained and when he looks back down at Clarke, his heart stutters in his chest.

God, he doesn’t want to mess it up this time. The wave of panic that flows through him takes his breath. He can’t lose her - not again.

"Hey." She notices the change, lifts herself up onto her elbows to reach him. Her brows are pinched with concern, eyes sincere. With one hand, she places her fingers on his chest and lets him rest his forehead against hers. "I love you."

It’s a reminder, one he never gets tired of hearing. Maybe it’s a promise as well - that they can make it work this time.

"I love you," he repeats back to her, passion behind every word because fuck, he wants her to know it - _believe it._

When he sinks into her, Clarke clutches at his shoulders and buries her nose against his neck. It’s like she’s holding him there, desperate to keep him. They move together and Bellamy bites his lip, feeling stupid for ever thinking that he didn’t need her like this.

She’s made for him, and him for her.

Normally, both of them are talkers in bed. It was something they struggled with the most when living at home with their parents - trying to keep quiet enough so they wouldn’t be heard by the rest of the house but wanting to scream at the same time, wanting to bring each other to the edge with their words. Now, other than their heavy breathing, both of them are deathly quiet. It’s like they’re afraid any noise will disrupt this moment, like they want to appreciate the feel of one another rather than getting off to a string of filthy words. In fact, he doesn’t even want to come. When he does - this will be over. Nothing will be certain after this moment. But for now, he has her - Clarke is his, for however long this lasts.

She moans quietly against his neck and Bellamy shudders out a breath. _Fuck_. It’s the most intimate sex Bellamy has ever had.

He can’t hold back anymore, no matter how much he wants this to go on forever. He slams into her one last time before he’s coming so hard that there’s white spots bursting behind his eyes. Clarke follows at the same time, both of them cascading down the cliff together.

And then they’re in free fall.

His cool sheets meet his sweaty skin as he lies down beside her, terrified to even reach out and brush the hair from her face. She’s not looking at him, busy focusing on his ceiling. Through the muted darkness, he can see her mind turning.

He vocalises his fear before she can say anything. "I don’t want this to be it."

She loves him, yes. But she loved him before too - and he doesn’t want her to be afraid. He doesn’t want her to think it will be like before.

"Me either," she admits, turning to face him now. She looks nervous and he realises that she must be thinking the same thing as he is: what will be different this time?

"Come here." Bellamy outstretches his arms and she wastes no time in falling into them. She tucks her head under his chin, just like she used to do all that time ago, and he traces lines up and down her naked back.

"I gave up too easily before," she whispers against him as they cuddle. "I don’t want to make that mistake again."

"I’m the one who fucked up." Bellamy shakes his head, understanding falling over him now. She thinks that the reason they broke up is on her. "I should have fought for you."

"There’s so much I’d change now if we could just go back."

"We are going back," he promises. "This is our do-over."

"You think we’ll be okay?" Clarke sounds so delicate in that moment, desperate for him to comfort her and erase these fears. He’s scared too - blown away by the responsibility of holding her heart in his hands once more. Except this time, he’s more determined than ever to protect it.

He kisses the top of her head, certain in his answer.

"I know we will."

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of [Bellarke Bingo](https://www.bellarkebingo.tumblr.com) (an event that Essie and I are running). I'm crossing off the tropes _reunion, breakup/makeup, smut_ and _cuddling_ from my bingo card with this one. You can find all of my bingo fics [here](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/625259821279690752/my-bellarke-bingo-fic-guide).
> 
> As with every fic, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and the aesthetic for this fic on [tumblr](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/187824432339/long-time-no-see-a-bellarke-modern-au-written) 💛


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